The Million Sovereign Question
by sillysongswithlarry
Summary: Very short Alistair/Surana drabble. First party camp. Alistair has a question; Surana's answer is an emphatic YES. But it might not be the one we hoped.


I do not own Dragon Age, nor any of the characters, plotline, or dialogue associated with the franchise.

Some backstory on this little drabble (you're welcome to skip over the notes if you don't care for an explanation): I decided to play _Dragon Age: Origins_ over break, and I have the complete edition with all the DLC. Being a short-sighted idiot, I decided to purchase the Feast Day gifts, which earn you fifty approval from the character to whom you give them. Foolishly, I decided I would give them to all of the companions at the first party camp, and I started with Alistair, whom I had initiated a romance with. I already had a decent amount of approval with him due to dialogue options, and so giving him the gift skyrocketed his approval-straight past warm into either love or something very close. Which initiated a certain romance conversation, in my opinion, _way too soon._ It was _extremely _awkward. So I decided _not _to give the rest of the gifts, played through Redcliffe, then promptly wrote this short little thing.

**The Million Sovereign Question**

_Fire. She felt the heat on her face and smelled the sulfur in the air, but she was paralyzed, unable to move as monstrous roars echoed across the chasm before her. Fire burned in the pit. _

_Movement. She spun around, only to be confronted by a giant, scaled monstrosity, the same draconic creature she had caught a glimpse of during the Joining. Panicked, she scrambled backwards as it spewed fire in her direction. Red, at first, then a vibrant blue as the heat intensified. _

_The ground shook beneath her, her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and with a gasp, she awoke. _

Eyes opening in alarm, Surana worked to regulate her breathing. _Just a dream, _she chanted in her mind, clutching at the bedroll beneath her. _Just a dream. _But she was a mage. Nothing was ever just a dream.

After a few seconds, when her breaths were coming a bit more evenly, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, taking in the dark wilderness around her. They had made camp in a large clearing on the way to Redcliffe. Night had fallen, but the clearing was lit by the crackling fire in the center of their camp, and more distantly, the smaller flames Morrigan had lit for herself. The wild mage had not wanted to be so close to the rest of them.

Barkspawn yipped as she crossed her legs in front of her, and she shot the mabari a small smile. Surana supposed saving someone's life, even a dog's, inspired a certain loyalty. Barkspawn, at least, appeared wholly devoted to her. Morrigan, Sten, and Leliana's loyalties seemed as though they would be much more difficult to earn, though Alistair had seemed willing to put his faith in her.

As though summoned by her thoughts, a charming voice quietly said, "Bad dreams, huh?"

Surana turned slightly to see Alistair himself lounging by the fire, prodding the embers with a long stick. The two of them—and Barkspawn—seemed to be the only ones awake. She could hear light snoring from Sten's tent. "It seemed so real," she answered eventually. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the image of the dragon, flames dancing along the back of her eyelids.

"Well, it is real, sort of," Alistair replied, his arm propped up on his bent knee. "You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon, it… 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a Blight."

She had wondered why Duncan, prior to his death, had been so adamant that the darkspawn sightings were the prelude to another Blight. Irritated, she bit her lip. This was yet another parcel of information that was spoon-fed to her at someone else's leisure. She did not blame Alistair, nor Duncan—not truly—for she knew that, in the face of a Blight, they had more important things to worry about than catching her up, but it galled her that there was so much she did not know about her future as a Grey Warden. Instead of voicing her frustrations, Surana asked, "The archdemon? Is that the dragon?"

"I don't know if it's really a dragon," Alistair continued, "But it sure looks like one. But yes, that's the archdemon." Sighing, he scrubbed a gloved hand across his face. "It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the archdemon a bit, but I sure can't. Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too."

With a snort, Surana smiled tentatively at the blond ex-Templar. Strange, that after so many years in the Circle kept separate from the Templars, taught through experience to fear and despise them, she should find common ground with one. A former Circle mage and a former Templar, both now Wardens. What a strange pair they made. "Any other surprises I should know about?" she asked, not without humor.

Alistair responded in kind. "Other than dying young and the whole defeat-the-Blight-alone thing? No, I'm all tapped out for surprises." Pushing to his feet, he smiled at her. "Anyhow, you're up now, right? Let's pull up camp and get a move on."

With one last contemplative look at her bedroll, Surana nodded to Alistair and let him pull her to her feet. "Thank you," she said politely, then promptly knelt to pack up her bedroll. Instead of running off to do the same, as she had expected he would, Alistair lingered awkwardly around her.

After a few seconds, he cleared his throat, then said rather excitedly, "So all this time we've spent together…"

Surana blinked, flabbergasted. '_All this time'? It's been, what, a fortnight since we met? And I was unconscious for a portion of that. _

"You know, the tragedies, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us… Will you miss it once it's over?" Alistair asked.

Surana was rather taken aback, but as she rose to her feet again, she tried not to dismiss his words out of hand, instead giving them some consideration. "There will always be more battles to fight somewhere…" she pointed out.

"But that doesn't mean we would necessarily be fighting them together," Alistair replied hesitantly, and Surana was filled with a sense of foreboding. "I know it… might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to… care for you. A great deal."

Surana's jaw went slack. '_Haven't known each other long'? Maker, if that isn't an understatement for the ages. Can he possibly be serious?_

"I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together, I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself." He looked down briefly, likely discouraged by the shock in her eyes. However, he quickly met her gaze once more, bravely asking, "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"

Blinking a few more times, she heard herself answer as though in a trance, "I-I don't know. It's too soon to say, Alistair."

Stepping forward, he moved to caress her cheek, leaning in. His voice softened as he asked, "Well, is it… too soon for this?" Then his lips met hers, and she was left silently screaming.

_I've known you for two weeks! Maker's sake, Alistair!_

Despite her horror, when he finally pulled back, she found herself saying coyly, "I don't know. I need more testing to be sure."

Maker, but that man could kiss. What did they teach them in the Chantry?


End file.
